Ode to a Thief

You are cunning and sly and quick with your hand.
You have skills that will feed you no matter the land.
You love patricians and things that do shine.
You are often quite happy with posca for wine.

The world is your friend though they know it not
and you wouldn't mind owning all that they got.
With a knife in hand and a swish from your blade.
You walk off happily knowing you're paid.

You're life is adventure, though dangerious it be.
And your bank account proves that you're happy.
But the drive that you have makes you want more.
And sometimes you land at the constables door.

The fighters all chase you, their pouch in your hand.
But often your escape is already planned.
Their sens and their cents and other things to.
And sometimes you steal things for something to do.
For you are a theif, though bad as it sounds.
And the wealthy should fear when you are around.
But lost in their wealth you slip from their mind.
So once in a while you have to remind.

Your theif friends they love you, and the constables to.
But those that lose out would love to kill you.
You have so much loot it's all hard to sort.
but you enjoy your life no matter how short.